


Avec Les Hommes, Avec L'Absinthe

by Sjukdom



Series: La Folie Verte [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:39:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6385915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sjukdom/pseuds/Sjukdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were blood brothers, blood of each poisoned with the same venom. They were the single whole, the three-headed creature, the idol of green madness. The men. The absinthe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Avec Les Hommes, Avec L'Absinthe

Tree branches scratched the windows with their long bony fingers with soft leafy nails, painted the brightest shade of green. They colored the fading sunlight green, too, as it was filtering through them. The whole house was bathing in greenness, the color of summer, the color of jealousy, the color of bitter nectar, bearing the name of a magic creature. The corners of the house were haunted by emerald shadows. The eyes of those who stepped in there became two green opals, misty and shining with sick shine.

As he was following Edward towards the living room, Jim cast a glance in the mirror. His skin had the same color, pale green, as if The Green Fairy blew the magic dust softly all over him. Or as if its tears, the absinthe, were now even in his blood. The man walking in front of him was dressed in green clothes and seemed to belong in there, a mirage barely visible in unnatural light, distinctive only for the sparkles his glasses made, when they caught the light. As if Edward, not him was living here with Oswald.

The sudden emotion burned like the poisonous liquid burns its way to his insides and went out. The mirage, yes. The trick of evil fairy. Jim was living here and Edward just payed them occasional visits. He smiled over the verdant fog that filled his mind, so helpful, but deceitful sometimes. Edward noticed that he was slowing down and looked over his shoulder, his eyes hidden by two perfectly shaped shreds of glass. Jim tried to hide his smile, but the corners of his mouth froze, not a single muscle moving, as if held tight by invisible hands.

“Having fun?” asked Ed. He said in an indistinguishable voice, deprived of all emotions and connotations. Or Jim’s hearing deprived it of them, filled with ringing of glass and soft splashing of liquid flowing down from a bottle. He nodded and said nothing, the smile staying on his face like a scar from a knife’s caress.

They reached the door. Edward took its handle with his hand that grew another layer of skin, green and silky. The old white one was visible between the glove and the sleeve of his jacket.

“Is it because you are happy to see me?” said he, bowing his head a little. Jim’s lips twitched, unable to get rid of the cursed smile even before the face of dread. He was still afraid of Edward, of the nonchalance he managed to punish him with. It was so unlike Ed he had known. Like he was stolen by the fairies and replaced with their enchanted creation. He was still afraid, but hoped the absinthe would help to hide it under clouds of virid ecstasy.

Edward was watching him closely. Behind the door there was the whisper of burning flames to be heard. And the familiar sound of glass kissing the glass, exchanging the bitter-tasted green saliva between vitreous mouths.

“Don’t upset our beloved Oswald with your ridiculous thoughts of me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to stay.”

Edward smiled, showing sharp teeth, that seemed to be grown especially for the purpose of biting and opened the door, not giving Jim any time to lead his speech through the maze of his intoxicated brain.

The house, the gift from Oswald’s father was old, shaking from the coldness of its age. The heat that The Green Fairy presented with each gulp helped them to ignore it, but now even  
its magic seemed to be not enough. The fire was lit, twigs cracking and moaning as they were devoured by the small inferno. Oswald was lying in front of it, but the heat didn’t reach him. No single drop of sweat on his brow, no color in his cheeks except the eternal green lip marks of the Fairy. He was wrapped in furs, silver, black, white, sewn together like a giant cloak made of one unnatural mythical animal rather then multiple ordinary ones. His naked body glimpsed under the precious furs, small and vulnerable in comparison with their splendor and size. Oswald was leaning his head and shoulders on a chair, a glass in his hand, green poison blazing in the living shine of a burning fire. He nipped it up, his face twitching from every single gulp. The bottle standing next to him was almost full. The pleasure was about to begin just now.

“Hey”, said Ed softly and Oswald finally turned his head, awaking from the first deep kiss of absinthe. “If you’re cold, why not dress up a little?”

“What for? You are here. Both”, Oswald looked behind Ed’s back to be sure Jim was also presented. He stood a little further, hands clasped upon his groin, awaiting further instructions. Oswald patted the furs right near him and opened up his silvery drapes a bit, showing more of his body, the thin collarbones, the nipples hardening with probably imaginary cold, the line of his hips. “Come here, give me your warm.”

Ed purred something delightfully and walked towards Oswald. Jim hesitated for a moment. Before that he had never been so close to Edward and didn’t know how it would feel. The foundlings of the fairies were known to be evil and cunning and not to be trusted at all. But if he refused to join Oswald would certainly be upset and that was wrong. Jim followed Ed’s steps, hoping to taste the magical liquid to bury his fears in the green colored abyss.

He sat to the right of Oswald, while Ed laid himself to the left, much more relaxed than Jim. He was lying on his side, his long lean body pressed to Oswald’s, fingers of one thin arm stroking his chest and belly with dance-like grace. Jim positioned himself rather awkwardly, touching Oswald only with his shoulder and hip and helped him to wrap the furs around the three of them. His body felt good and warm through Jim’s clothes. The cold must have really been an illusion.

Or an invitation.

Oswald shifted himself, so his head was lying on Jim’s shoulder and spread his legs a little. The skin of his inner thighs was covered with goosebumps and Jim reached out and started to rub his own warmth into it. Oswald sighed with pleasure and sipped his absinthe. Even his skin and hair were smelling of it, of sage and heather and frenzy. Edward seemed to gather this smell like invisible wild flowers, pressing his nose and lips chaotically to Oswald’s neck, chest, ears. His hair sometimes brushed Jim’s arms and he barely managed to hold himself from jerking. They felt like a velvet made from barbed wire. Jim looked at Oswald for help, but his eyes were closed, head thrown back, breathing leaving his lips with soft moan-like sounds. Absinthe sparkled in his glass mockingly, green flecks turning his skin into a map of caress. Jim turned his attention to this tiny marks, sliding his palms upon them. He felt his arousal coming, but it was chased away constantly by his encounters with Edward’s hands following his own. When they touched, Jim’s underbelly contracted painfully, pumping the excitement deeper down, where there was nothing to feel it with.

Oswald felt his awkwardness and looked at him through half-closed eyes. Ed seemed to enjoy caressing the upper part of his body, blowing his warm breath over his nipples, so Jim placed his hand on his bellybutton, circling it with the tip of his index finger, preparing Oswald for its further way down to the head of his cock, pink and velvety, dripping with transparent dew of pre-cum. The furs embracing them all felt ticklish and soft, moving slightly with each breath they exhaled.

“Something’s wrong?” asked Oswald, sitting up a little to make Jim’s hand slip down onto his cock all by itself. Edward froze in mid-movement, lips pressed to Oswald’s collarbone, looking at him above his glasses. Jim felt another kind of flesh under his palm, tight and hot, its skin sensitive and tender, soft and hard at the same time, double sensations reminding him of the very first gulp of absinthe he made. He stared at it, cradled by Oswald’s hand in a crystal coffin, calling for it to fill him with its viperous glory and chase away his doubts. 

Oswald understood his thirsty look, the look of a man in a desert craving for illusionary oasis filled with scorpion’s venom instead of water. He drank from the glass, but didn’t swallow. He gestured to Jim to move closer and parted his lips, inviting him to drink from the living glass of his mouth. Jim bent over him and put his lips over Oswald’s, feeling first drops of green delight on his tongue. When he shoved it deeper inside his mouth, the taste of absinthe burned it like acid, squeezing his throat with green tentacles, as strong as if they belonged to the ancient godlike creature. Jim hastened to suck absinthe from Oswald’s mouth to release him from its stinging fire and a few drops escaped their tightly pressed mouths and rolled down to be caught by Ed’s greedy tongue. 

Jim had to break the kiss to inhale some air, but it was of no help at all, it was filled with the same green fumes. The familiar mist crept up Jim’s body, traveling from pore to pore, from vessel to vessel until it reached his brain. He was happy to submit to it. Fears were gone, anesthetized with the heaviest drug he ever took. Through the veil of absinthe he saw Oswald playing with the glass teasingly before he poured a small amount of liquid onto his chest, small drops turning into tiny brooks which Jim hastily licked off, afraid to miss even one single portion of his nectar. He managed to cage the last drop behind his lips right before Ed pulled at his hair, guiding his head lower. Oswald took him by his chin and poured a fresh portion of absinthe into his mouth, a fluid image of a happy prisoner in green uniform, who escaped from his glassy cell. 

“Come on, you’re not the only one here to be entertained.” 

Jim let his face be buried between Oswald’s thighs, let his much sweeter liquid be smeared upon it. Jim licked it from his cock and kept on sliding his tongue along its full length, looking up at Oswald, but seeing nothing except the merry-go-round of weird verdant shapes and forms. Edward was still holding his head firmly with one hand, running the fingers of other upon Oswald’s parted lips as if trying to capture his moans before they left his mouth. This position allowed Jim only the limited amount of freedom, but he practiced all these movements so well he didn’t mind a small restriction, every sucking movement, every throat contraction, every tension of neck muscles as he was bobbing his head, while taking in and letting the cock slip out of his mouth, slick with his saliva. His mouth was filled again, when Oswald came and he swallowed his semen as gratefully as the absinthe. 

Jim tried to breath, one, two, three, but the air refused to enter his touchy body. He felt Edward pulling him closer, felt the fabric of his trousers as his face was rubbed against his crotch. He reached out to set his cock free, unsure of his own position and found the familiar texture of Oswald’s skin instead. Ed slapped his hand lightly, obviously not to hurt Oswald rather than Jim. 

“No need for it, you’ll get it right now.” 

Jim felt Oswald stroking his palm encouragingly all the while Edward was pulling his cock out and placing it next to Jim’s lips, its head caressing their tender skin and leaving the unknown taste of another man’s pre-cum on them. Jim shifted himself a little to lean on his free hand to support his trembling knees and started his work yet again, relaxing his pharynx to let the cock slide into it. 

Opening his eyes, he could see only green, nothing but green, but was sure Oswald was watching them. Ed must have been not very satisfied with his drunken efforts, so he clutched Jim’s head with both hands and started to thrust into his mouth, choking him a little. His breath was already stolen by The Fairy and Jim was living on the fog in his lungs, green as moss from the inside until Edward stopped his movements and came rather carelessly upon Jim’s chin. He leaned back, panting and Oswald handed him another glass, which Ed drank with unnatural speed. He must have really been brought from the darker side of the world, where absinthe was flowing like rivers and stood still at the heart of forests as lakes. 

“Release him?” offered Oswald lazily. Ed didn’t answer, but obviously shook his head, because Oswald chuckled softly. 

Jim lowered himself down on the floor, on the mess of the furs which they threw about so casually. Thanks to the absinthe, his body was numb, unable to suffer from his own painful hard-on. He was between Oswald and Edward, between the limbs that didn’t belong to him, between the bodies still hot with the orgasms that he was deprived of, drunk with liquids different by nature but equally intoxicating. Green mist diseased their breaths, green juices flowed under their skin. They were blood brothers, blood of each poisoned with the same venom. They were the single whole, the three-headed creature, the idol of green madness. The men. The absinthe.


End file.
